Every day I pull on my black shirt, fleece vest and staff pass (with a growing pin collection on the sash)

Then run to work, sometimes lucky enough to pass the burning cauldron

I sneak in as much of the games as I can during breaks in the staff room

As well as as some of the great catered snacks

Our staff caterer puts out some of my favourite foods every day!

Then it’s back to work, sometimes watching over our real gold bar (it’s worth half a million dollars and weights 28 pounds)

And the million dollar coin (worth 3.5 million)

Sometimes I manage the photo and video booths and try to help people get their best shot

Otherwise I’m doing coin exchange, organizing the crowds, or walking around with a megaphone to warn people of the 7 hour wait to see the Olympic medals.  You may even spot me on CTV news as I manage the crazy lines!

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted from dealing with thousands of people and usually try and bake something delicious that I can share with friends and work and my boyfriend.

(Banana nut muffins)

It’s crazy times in this city, but every day is an adventure!

Please feel free to keep asking me questions here

Late last night I crawled up on the couch with my boyfriend and watched the opening ceremonies for the 2010 games.

We both worked through the actual event but didn’t want to miss a beat.

I was in the middle of the hype all day, helping tourists and locals make videos, swap coins, and have  a look at the Olympic medals at the Royal Canadian Mint pavilion.

I came home to an email from my grandmother saying “It was the most fantastic, enthusiastic, production of anything I have ever seen.”

The visuals were incredible and as I watched the dancers and listened to Sarah McLachlan singing Ordinary Miracle, I felt proud to be Canadian.

Most of us are here because our parents or our grandparents wanted something better for their families.

My grandfather moved to Canada from Ireland with my grandmother and two daughters, including my mother, on a whim.  He happened to be with a friend applying for immigration and applied himself.  His friend wasn’t accepted and he was.  When his father-in-law said “You’ll go to Canada on the boat called the Never Budge,” he decided to prove him wrong.  No wonder I’m so stubborn.

I was moved by the dancers and by Shane Koyczan, who performed his poem Ever More. He made me proud to be Canadian and described some of my favorite things about our country:

and some say what defines us

is something as simple as please and thank you

Or

we are first-rate greasy-spoon diners and healthy-living cafes

a country that is all the ways you choose to live

a land that can give you variety

because we are choices

I missed him every Sunday I was away.

Sundays have always been our day to slow down.

A day to spend all morning in bed, make a big breakfast, go for a long walk and cook dinner together.

I find it hard to relax sometimes.  My mind is always racing with what my next move should be.  But with him I can sit still.  I can sit over lunch for hours. I can eat with a knife and fork and savor each bite rather than grab something on the go.

This morning I made a big batch of crepes for my boyfriend and I and we lay on the sofa watching an old movie before seizing the day.

The Olympics start next week and the streets are filled with people, but with the Superbowl on all day we knew it would be a good day for a stroll.

So we took the small ferry over to Granville Island to spend the day.  We roamed through the food stalls in the busy market place, stopped to hear the busker singing in French as the seagulls flew around him and explored the island before stopping for lunch.

It’s nice to hear myself laugh again.  I’m sleeping more, eating more, and socializing more than I have in a long time.  My work starts tomorrow but I feel more relaxed then I have in months.

I have clean laundry hanging in the living room and freshly baked oatmeal cookies filling the apartment with their warm smell.

Sometimes the simplest days can make everything feel so good.

Showing off my Olympic mittens

From the ferry boat going over to Granville Island

The market

B.C apples

French singing busker

Admiring the flowers

Pastries at my favourite French bakery La Baguette et l’Echalote


The best hat shop in town

Looking through the beautiful cookware

Lunch at Sandbar

My beautiful salad

Sometimes all it takes is a long walk by the water to make everything okay.

Today my friend and I grabbed some coffees and walked the sea wall.  The smell of seaweed, salt air, and the sight of the mountains and my old neighborhood in the distance warmed my heart.

Things are getting exciting in this city as the Olympics are coming to town, but I’m most thankful for these quiet moments.

I’m still enjoying catching up with old friends and roaming the city, and received the good news this morning that I got a job during the games.

It’s nothing glamorous, but I’ll be a part of the action as a host at one of the sights set up in town.  I look forward to interacting with all the people coming to Vancouver for the first time and seeing the city take on a new life.

For now I’m enjoying the quiet, and plotting my life here little by little.

My heart, body and mind are happy to be home but I’m still adjusting.

After six months of packing my suitcase, counting every penny and putting all of my focus on a city, I find I’m desperate just to breathe a little.

I’m slowly re-acquainting myself with Vancouver, the people here and my own thoughts and dreams.

I find myself cooking and baking like crazy, and that the best way to re-connect is over a hot meal and a glass of wine.  It is so simple but so important.

I love the way a good dinner can transform a room and those in it.  When I can cook for people, pour them a glass of wine, and watch them enjoy all of the things that make this life worth living…I feel like myself.  Part of me feels like I was born to encourage taking pleasure in life.

Growing up, I remember the home coming alive when people would come for dinner.  The white linen table cloth would come out, candles would be lit, gorgeous food would sit up on the kitchen counter to nibble at and my mother would smell of Opium perfume, her long eyelashes coated with mascara and her dress floating down to the ground.

So slowly, as I get comfortable, I am inviting friends for dinner, setting the table and setting the tone for my life here.

I continue to do job interviews, and struggle with the idea of someone not wanting to hire me.  As confident as I am, there are moments when I ask myself if I’m good enough.

But what is good enough?  Every day I am true to myself.  I am honest.  I try to make those around me smile.  That, sometimes, is more than good enough.

Tonight my friend came over after a day training at pastry school with a chocolate ganache cake and a lemon tart.  He is following his dreams and I couldn’t be more proud.

I made a big pot of chili and we threw around ideas of starting our own business.  We may even get to be a part of a farmer’s market this summer.  He gets excited over food in the same way I do and wants to bring people back to the basics with baking.

Dinner was nothing fancy, but like me, it was honest, hearty and a little bit spicy.

And like me, it was good enough, and it will be even better tomorrow.

Cornbread muffins



Cornbread with herb butter


Big pot of vegetable rich chili

Appetizers

My friend and his beautiful cake

There’s nothing better than exploring your own home.

This weekend my boyfriend and I drove up the sea to sky highway to Whistler.  The drive always takes my breath away.  Mountains and deep valleys surround the road and the air gets cleaner and crisper with every winding turn.

The rain poured heavily when we got there so we spent less time exploring outside, and more time relaxing, cooking up some great meals, and enjoying some live music and drinks at an Irish pub in the village.

As I said to my boyfriend, “It is so nice just to be able to live in the moment.”

Now that I’m home I find I’m not always trying to look forward to what’s to come.  I’m savoring every simple moment.  Tasting my food again.  Enjoying the way red wine swirls in a glass.  My first cup of tea each morning. Feeling a warm hand wrapped with mine.

We drove home Sunday and stopped at one of my favorite shops, Gourmet Warehouse, an emporium of gourmet food and cooking and baking equipment.  I left with some fire roasted peppers, some honey dijon mustard and a fresh curry spice mixture.

The day continued with a stop at Ikea for kitchen equipment and a couple of nice things from the apartment, a stop in Little India for some spices and a final stop at Whole Foods to buy some fresh prawns and vegetables for dinner.

I love getting my hands dirty in the kitchen again, cooking and baking to my heart’s content.  I burnt my arm making a lemon tart this weekend, but it was so tart, light and flakey, that I am wearing my new baking scar with pride.

I am making myself at home for the first time in years.  It feels good.

I have a desk set up and am going to get going with my book,  I have another interview today, and I am planning on taking this blog in many new directions.  I want to explore Vancouver and what it has to offer, capture a taste of the Olympics and so some fun new video segments.

I feel like I have room to grow in this city, and even though I plan on staying still, I know I’m going places.

My first tarte au citron.  See recipe here.

Whistler mountain, home of the 2010 Olympic games!

Salad with candied walnuts and balsamic glaze

Serving up wild sockeye salmon

Gourmet Warehouse

What would you like to see in upcoming posts?  More recipes, beauty, health, videos or fashion?

As the airplane touched down on the Vancouver runway I felt a sense of relief.

Home.  At last.

I sat beside a former flight attendant who was coming home from a cruise.  I told her my story.  I told her how excited I was to see my boyfriend because I had to tell somebody.

When the plane landed she motioned for me to move ahead of her and her husband, “You have important things to do,” she said, “go ahead.”

He was waiting for me with a big grin and I fell into his arms with ease.  I wrapped myself in his familiar warmth and smell and knew that I was finally home.

Being back in Vancouver feels right.  The Pacific Ocean and the great mountains remind me of natural beauty, while this slow moving city is picking up its pace with the Olympics coming any day now.

I was going to spend my first few days here doing nothing at all, but I am my mother’s daughter and I like to keep busy.  I’ve been cooking, baking, organizing, joining a gym, and yesterday I visited my brother and had my first job interview.

I’m determined not to spend the rest of my life as a waitress and am applying for TV jobs so that I can pursue my dreams.  I want to be proud of what I do, to use my brain, my people skills and my creative talent on a daily basis.

Right now, anything feels possible.  I have a place to call my own. My suitcase unpacked.  A wonderful man that loves me so much he surprised me with fancy new baking equipment and a gift certificate for my favourite organic grocery store (he knows me too well).

Tonight we’re heading further up into the mountains to see Whistler before the Olympics take over.

I’m excited to watch this city transform and will be capturing a lot of the action through my blog.

It might not be Paris, but it’s home, at last.

Welcome home gift. And yes, that is French butter.

Staples at our place

Kale, black bean and corn salad with fresh salsa and bean dip

Vancouver getting proud